L.A. shootings put Pennsville chief in the spotlight

Darran Simon

Tuesday

Nov 26, 2013 at 7:57 PMNov 26, 2013 at 7:59 PM

Allen Cummings sat guard in his police car, gun drawn, one summer night in 1997 when his rural town became a stop in a cross-country killing spree that left a former naval officer, an architect, and a real estate mogul dead.

The killer, Andrew Cunanan, had shot dead the caretaker of a Civil War cemetery in Fort Mott State Park. Police did not know where he was, so Cummings was assigned to guard the park.

But Cunanan was on his way south in the caretaker's red pickup truck, soon to kill his most prominent victim: fashion designer Gianni Versace in Miami.

Cummings last week recalled the glare of the national media on his small Salem County town during that manhunt -- and again this month, when a member of a well-known local family was identified as the suspect in a deadly shooting at Los Angeles International Airport 3,000 miles away.

This time, he found himself not at the wheel of a squad car, but in the back of a limousine, headed for a CNN interview.

Now police chief of the town, where officers ordinarily focus on theft, burglaries, and drug offenses, Cummings turned counselor and town spokesman Nov. 1, when Paul Ciancia was accused in the shootings that killed a TSA agent and injured three.

"It was an interesting week. At one point, I had over 100 texts on my phone [from the media]. I couldn't even catch up because they were coming in so fast," he said last week. "A couple of times, I said, 'Why do you want to keep talking to me? There is nothing more to add.' "

The media attention surprised him, said Cummings, 49, who said he was just doing his job. He alerted Los Angeles police after Ciancia's father told Cummings of his son's apparent suicidal text message to his brother. He also encouraged the elder Ciancia to stay home until FBI agents arrived to interview him.

Still, he said, he relished the chance to be a spokesman for the force and for the hometown where he played and coached midget football and where his youngest son, Dylan, is having a breakout football season at Pennsville Memorial High.

"It's a good town. People here are supportive," he said.

A Pennsville Memorial High graduate himself, Cummings serviced copiers in Center City and worked as a computer programmer for a Philadelphia human resources firm before joining the force 23 years ago.

"I can't say enough good about this man. I knew he would be excellent in his job," said Lou Berge, 72, the chief who hired him.

Cummings thought about leaving once.

Early in his career, a toddler locked a bathroom door and climbed into the tub with the water running. After the child's mother pried the door open with a butter knife, Cummings lifted the unconscious toddler out of water and slapped his back. The baby lived.

"I went home and I told my wife, 'I don't know if I can do this,' " recalled Cummings, whose eldest son, Tyler, was a toddler then.

This year, Cummings was promoted from lieutenant after Chief Bruce Maahs, 50, died of an apparent heart attack. Maahs joined the department as a dispatcher five years before Cummings. The two were friends and went to high school together.

Cummings eulogized Maahs at the funeral in May. During the procession, students from the middle school and high school, where Maahs coached track, lined William Penn Avenue in salute.

It was awesome, Cummings thought, the kind of response he expected from Pennsville.

But he could not have predicted what would happen when the elder Ciancia, who owns an auto body shop, called the chief's cellphone around 12:15 p.m. Nov. 1.

A long text message from Paul Ciancia worried his family. Cummings immediately called Los Angeles police to ask them to check on Ciancia, who had moved there about 18 months before. Ciancia had left for the airport by the time police arrived.

An Associated Press reporter called Cummings at the police station and said Ciancia had been identified as the shooter. Ciancia's father learned from watching television.

Outside the Ciancia house that night, satellite trucks lined the street and reporters clutching microphones and notebooks surrounded him.

"The thing everybody kept asking me is, 'Why did you call L.A.?' That's procedure," he said. "I'm not a hero. I didn't do anything that anybody else here wouldn't have done."

Now the cameras are gone. And the text messages. So is the producer from Today with whom Cummings became friendly.

Paul Ciancia, shot by police, was released last week from a hospital and is in a federal facility awaiting court proceedings.

Cummings is back to focusing on what he calls his "dream job": policing his 26-square-mile hometown.

Crime statistics show officers responded to 35 burglaries, stopped more than 1,100 drivers, and issued 643 tickets in 2012. Ninety-four people were arrested for theft and 32 for shoplifting.

Since June, officers have served 14 search warrants for drugs and weapons arrests after gathering intelligence, Cummings said. Last year, the department served about four such warrants.

"I want to people to say, 'I heard you're cleaning up that town, and you're making a lot of drug arrests, and you're solving a lot of burglaries and thefts,' " he said.

But first, he had to go cheer on the children he coached in midget league, including Dylan, South Jersey's all-time passing leader with more than 6,000 yards. On Friday, Pennsville fought hard but lost to Glassboro, 40-33.